THE NEW SONG

Wide as the world our bounds are wide,
But if our hearts be true,
What England's done is naught beside
What England yet shall do !
Her fame shall mount on ampler wing,
Her sun more glorious shine ;
Up with the flag of Peace and bring
The whole world into line !

The King who bade his people Wake
A goodly dawn shall hail ;
The Years of Man flow on to make
The Will of God prevail :
Peace on the earth, goodwill, and joy !
Who asks the how and when ?
Man may disgrace but not destroy
The Brotherhood of Men !

We see a shining light, we hear
A music at the door,
Bright angels of the Lord appear
With tidings for the poor―
An end to bitter want and woe,
An end to hate and strife,
The least of all mankind shall know
The blessed joy of life !

O Island Home, where Alfred dreamed,
And Wyclif's soul did pray,
Where Cromwell's host to battle streamed
And Hampden stood at bay―
Thy cliffs are strong, thy rose is sweet,
Thy woods, thy hills are fair,
O strong and tender, make us meet
To breath thy sacred air !

Our father wrought for wealth and might,
Far did their war-drums roll ;
Ours, with their fortitude, to fight
The battles of the soul !
For us shall come no eventide,
No age of wreck and rue,
What England's done is naught beside
What England yet shall do !

BY HAROLD BEGBIE